Who Needs Therapy When You Have Beer
by TipsyArmadillo
Summary: This might be a good time to mention Blaine gives terrible advice and his plans rarely ever work.
1. Chapter 1

Who needs therapy when you have beer?

How did this happen?

Blaine had asked himself that question countless times in the past few months.

Well, it all began and ended with hairgel, he knew that much. Well, almost. It really began with Kurt. More specifically, Kurt raising an eyebrow at him suspiciously. The eyebrow was raised especially high today which meant that Blaine was probably going to have to answer some uncomfortable questions.

"Why do you smell like you've been rolling around in beer?"

Questions like that. _Damn it, Blaine, think of something! _"I ... uh ... was out drinking."_ Shit! Wrong answer. Evacuate. Evacuate! _"I have to go now. See you at practice, Kurt."He said, running towards the bathroom.

The Eyebrow Of Disapproval clearly disapproved heavily. Blaine could feel Kurts stare burning a hole into his back as he left and he got the distinct impression that he hadn't heard the last of the subject of why he smelled like beer.

As he shut himself in the bathroom and looked in the mirror at his own sorry reflection (uniform damp and wrinkled, hair half gelled and half bedhead which really wasn't a good look for him - Blaine felt like the mirror was judging his lack of style) Blaine could only come to the sad realization that he couldn't keep this up. He would have to tell Kurt eventually. It was getting harder to keep his clandestine meetings a secret and eventually Kurt's curiosity would get the better of him and he would undoubtedly follow Blaine and find out his dirty little secret and then the shit would really hit the fan.

* * *

It all started roughly around 3 months ago, just before Kurt had transferred and shortly after he had come to Blaine, begging him for help in dealing with a certain bully. The same bully who had reduced Kurt to tears, had made his life a living hell and, now, who was apparently in the same boat they were. Blaine hadn't even though twice about confronting him, which, in retrospect, really was a stupid idea. He supposed a bad mix of cocky overconfidence in his own ability to handle the situation and sympathy with Kurts plight had driven him to it.

Had everything gone according to plan they would have confronted the guy, had a nice long heart-to-heart, maybe shed some sympathetic tears together and, voila, the bully would come out and Kurt would be safe and they would all live happily ever after. – This might be a good time to mention Blaine gives terrible advice and his plans rarely ever work. He is the rare unlucky soul blessed with mountains of charisma and the determination of a bulldog but very little luck and the rather curious ability of never having his plans work out the way he wanted them. – So, naturally, nothing went according to plan, in fact, he may have made things worse but he didn't like to dwell on that. The point is, after Kurt transferred he was feeling rather guilty and decided to try and make things right. Kurt wasn't happy at Dalton, a blind man could see that, but the only way he would go back to McKinley was if his bully situation was resolved.

And so Blaine, with every good intention in the world, found the bullys address (listed under Karofsky, at least he thought that's what Kurt had called him) and marched straight over to his house.

In retrospect, also a bad idea. Looking back, Blaine couldn't really say why Karofsky didn't just punch him in the face; he probably wouldn't have even blamed him if he did given the circumstances. Karofsky just sort of stood there and eyed Blaine as if he wasn't sure if he could believe his eyes, when he tried to slam the door Blaines foot was there to block it and when he told him to leave Blaine said no. All in all he was kind of lucky, or maybe he had just misjudged the situation because, instead of losing some teeth and being forced to drive back to Dalton in shame he somehow ended up sitting on Karofsky's beat up sofa in the basement/den and downing a beer while they both awkwardly avoided talking and eye contact and acknowledgement of each others presence in the room.

At the time he thought Karofsky was just afraid of having a 'fag' in his house and was on guard in case of surprise butt secks but, looking back, it seemed more like Karofsky was trying to reach out, however clumsily his attempt might have been, to someone who might understand him.

He wasn't even sure how it got started but next Sunday he was back and Karofsky was there, supplying booze and entertainment and steadfastly not making conversation which, naturally, Blaine had to fix.

It started off innocently enough. "Who's playing?" "Redskins." "Ah."

And it snowballed from there. Soon Karofsky was talking about his favourite teams, his opinions on hockey versus football and why he played both, his favourite games. Eventually Blaine began joining in with his opinions, and then slowly, mens fashion, favourite designers and Broadway, most of which Karofsky 'uh huh'd' his way through, clearly thinking the subjects 'too gay' to comment on but not caring enough to object to the topics. Soon they were talking about everything ... well, almost everything – everything except the elephant in the room. The 'K' word.

When the subject was finally spoken of, to Blaines surprise it wasn't him that brought it up but Karofsky. And by god, once he started talking about Kurt he would not _shut up _about it.

"-So then I started thinking, he's practically a girl anyways, right? So it's not weird, I just got confused – and he was wearing a corset. A damn corset! It was distracting. I just got it mixed up, right?"

"Right." Blaine tuned back into the conversation, hoping he hadn't just agreed to anything too bad.

"Exactly! That's what I thought! But then, it's like, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I would be sitting in class and he'd just pop into my head out of nowhere. I'd be eating lunch and there he was, in my head, I'd be in the shower and there he was, it's like he was everywhere. And I would try to ignore him but he kept wearing those flashy clothes. How the hell am I supposed to ignore a guy dressed as Lady Gaga? It's impossible, right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right."

"You're not even paying attention."

That snapped Blaine out of it and he put on his best 'I live to please' smile. "Of course I am."

Karofsky stared at him, looking slightly creeped out. "Don't do that again."

"Do what?"

"That smile thing."

Blaines face fell. "Darn, that usually works on people."

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Anyways, you were saying?"

Karofsky raised an eyebrow and it was Blaines turn to be creeped out. Dave must have been channelling Kurt or something because the Eyebrow Of Disapproval was glaring down at him and, for a brief moment, Blaine wondered if Karofsky waxed his eyebrows because they were really neat looking and he kind of wished he had eyebrows that perfect.

Also, he may have been slightly drunker than normal when he thought that.

"Why do you put all that crap in your hair?"

"Crap?"

"The hair gel. It's like you're wearing a damn helmet. Hummel can do it, you can't. It looks weird on you."

Well, now Blaine was slightly offended. Kurt could wear hairgel but he couldn't? What the hell? "It keeps my hair in place."

"Well -" and here Karofsky took a large swig of his beer and pointed accusingly at Blaine. "You're always talking about all that 'not hiding your true self' crap."

"I only said that once!"

"Yeah, whatever. That gel. It's stupid. Take it off."

Ok, clearly Karofsky was waaaay drunker than Blaine. He didn't even want to know why Karofsky cared about what products he put into his hair. However, he did know that when Karofsky started talking about hair products that was probably a good indication that he was not in his right mind and Blaine needed to leave before Karofsky tried to do something stupid like getting him to wash his hair.

"You should wash your hair!"

_Oh my god! Evacuate!_ "I think I need to go now."

"No way. It's a great idea. Here I am spilling my guts to you like you're my damn pastor or something – who would probably tell my parents to send me away if he knew I had, well, you know, one of you guys at my place." His face was briefly shadowed before alcoholic stupidity took over once again. "Anyways. The hair crap – needs to go. Come on."

Blaines brain was still trying to work out what the hell Karofsky was talking about when a firm hand suddenly grabbed his wrist and dragged him off the sofa. Both boys had a moment of vertigo – the kind you get when you don't quite realize just how drunk you are until you stand and realize the floor is moving – before Karofsky staggered them both to the bathroom and pushed Blaine into the tub, clothes and all.

"I don't have fancy shampoo."

"What?"

The other boy looked far too serious for what Blaine had just heard come out of his mouth. "I don't have fancy shampoo, I know you gay dudes like fancy stuff, but all I have is the store brand."

"I – uh, I guess ... yeah." _Did that even make sense?_

Karofsky nodded gravely before turning on the shower and drenching Blaine with icy cold water until his shocked and outraged curses could have woke the dead. Karofsky managed to somehow figure out the difference between hot and cold which was a miracle because Blaine couldn't even see straight to get out of the tub. The rest of the shower was a blur but Blaine vaguely remembered they both started laughing hysterically at one point and he couldn't remember how they got out of the bathroom but he ended up in one of Karofskys old jerseys and sweatpants because his uniform was soaked through. For some reason around that point he may or may not have started crying but for the life of him he couldn't remember what about, something about hairgel and uniforms, but it was all kind of a blur. Eventually he passed out on the floor next to Karofskys already snoring self.

* * *

The next morning saw Dave awake before Blaine. Awake was probably the wrong word. He had clawed himself into a semi-conscious state at which point he realized he was in hell and hell was called 'hangover'. What the hell had happened last night? What day was it? Where was he?

A soft murmur brought him back to reality and he turned his head to take in the very unusual sigh of another guy sleeping beside him. His brain didn't immediately compute who the guy was, all he knew was he was strangely content with the sight of him which was pretty unusual... god, he hoped he hadn't gotten drunk and picked up a male hooker. His allowance wouldn't cover that.

Soon enough his brain caught up with his eyes and Dave recognized the boy as Blaine, but a very different looking Blaine than he was used to; laying is his stomach with his mouth opened slightly and his hair out of its gel prison for once. The guys hair was really fluffy. Not just fluffy but curly – like a sheep. Why did Blaine look like a sheep? It was kind of cute and before he could give it any thought his hand was already petting the fluffy head, tousling the curls and getting a childish sort of amusement the way they bounced around. It was around this point that his brain started to clear a little and he realized that he was sleeping with another dude and petting his hair which was very gay.

What the hell had happened again?

Dave had a very vague recollection of a shower which made him very uncomfortable to think about what might have happened. Blaine wasn't wearing his uniform; he was wearing a very oversized jersey and sweats that Dave recognized as his own.

Oh! My! God!

They couldn't have.

No. It was impossible.

Good god. First Kurt, then this guy. Clearly he was under some sort of gay attack. He needed to get Blaine out of there before his dad or mom wandered into the den. There was no way he could explain why there was a curly haired sheep boy wearing his clothes and sleeping with him. Well, he could explain but the answer wouldn't impress them at all and then he would have to deal with his mom crying and his dad yelling and his friends knowing and then his life would be over and he would burn in hell for all eternity!

"Karofsky!" Dave flinched, looking at Blaine who had his tired, bloodshot eyes trained on him. "It's ok."

No it wasn't. It was never going to be ok. His life was falling apart and Kurt and Blaine were tearing him apart piece by piece. He didn't want this. He had never asked for any of this so why, why was this happening to him? God, he must still be drunk. He always was a maudlin drunk.

"Karofsky," Blaine said, a little more gently.

"What." His voice sounded like he had been eating sandpaper.

"You don't have to be scared." Blaine reached out a hand and grabbed Daves own. And, for some reason, that was enough.

They both eventually drifted off again.

* * *

The next morning was a disaster as both boys woke up realizing they were late for school, and, in Blaines case, he didn't get back to the dorms so somebody would have noticed and he was sure to get a stern talking to about setting an example which would go against his record of being an exemplary student and role model.

The morning rush was frantic due in part to the hangovers and the fact that Blaine had to be extra quiet and sneak out, but not after he had slipped back into his wrinkled and slightly damp and musty smelling uniform and slapping some gel Karofsky had laying around in the bathroom in his hair before beating a quick retreat.

It was, of course, and unspoken rule that Blaine would be back again on Sunday and they would both do their best to never mention that night again and the fact that that they had woken up hand in hand and with Karofskys nose buried in Blaines fluffy hair.

After all, it didn't mean anything.

They both liked Kurt.

* * *

Kurt knew something was up. He could smell it and it smelled like alcohol. Beer to be exact. Cheap beer. The sort of beer Blaine would normally never be caught dead drinking.

It wasn't his intention to spy. He wasn't one of those clingy, jealous types. He was just concerned, that's all. Blaine was acting differently, he had missed out on practice for their duet (a stirring mash up of 'Shake Ya Ass' and Celine Dions 'My Heart Will Go On', Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that that particular song was doomed to failure but that's what happened when you made your decisions based on a hat draw, admittedly one of Kurt's less intelligent ideas).

The point was, something was up and he was going to find out what.

The most obvious conclusion was that Blaine had a boyfriend but Kurt immediately scratched that idea. Blaine would have mentioned a boyfriend, he was far too honourable to play Kurt like that. They may not have been dating but Blaine seemed interested, and Kurt was interested, and they did seem to flirt a lot, not that Kurt had much practice flirting with someone who actually reciprocated but if Disney had taught him anything it's that when two people made a connection like they did they were destined to be together. Disney had never steered him wrong before ... except with the part about step-mothers, Carole was everything he could ever want in a mother. He supposed Disney was allowed to be wrong once or twice.

It didn't take long for him to discover a pattern. Sunday nights, for three weeks Blaine always seemed to disappear early Sunday evening and reappearing late Sunday night, usually smelling of beer and looking far too pleased with himself.

It wasn't Kurts intention to follow Blaine. Actually, it was nothing more than a coincidence that a few weeks after Kurt had confronted Blaine he was driving back to Lima Sunday afternoon and spotted Blaines car parked in a non-descript neighbourhood that Kurt had driven by countless times and had never paid much attention to. What could Blaine possibly be doing in Lima, in this particular neighbourhood?

Kurt made a split second decision and turned his car into a side avenue.

He couldn't tell which house Blaine might have gone into but, by a random stroke of luck there he was, coming out of a small ranch style house that was quite a ways away from where his car had been parked, staggering slightly, and grabbing a pack of beer out of the passenger's seat of his car. Kurts eyebrows rose when Blaine walked into the house without knocking, seemingly quite at home.

Kurt knew he should go. He should get back into his car, go home and trust that Blaine wasn't getting into trouble or was meeting a secret boyfriend or ... or ... oh, who the hell was Kurt kidding, he was already hiding in the bushes like some sort of criminal and probably ruining his clothes in the process. He slowly lifted his head up to look into the living room window. It was empty and dark. Slowly Kurt made his way around the house, peeking into windows and finding the house conspicuously free of occupants. It wasn't until he noticed a tiny window by his feet that appeared to be the only source of light in the entire house did Kurt find Blaine.

In a rare moment where he completely forgot about his clothes Kurt got flat on his belly on the grass to look inside and felt his stomach turn to ice.

Blaine was there, flipping through what looked like a mens fashion magazine and swirling a bottle of beer absentmindedly before consulting his companion about something, pointing at the magazine. The other boy simply shrugged and turned back to the TV where a football game was playing and Kurt suddenly knew who this mystery person was who Blaine was missing practice and turning into a delinquent for.

Dave Karofsky.

Kurt felt a bitter weight settle in his stomach and tears stinging his eyes as he watched the two companionably chatting, so at ease in each others company. How could Blaine do this to him? How could he sit there, smiling at that monster as though they were best friends? Did he forget what Karofsky did to him, how he tormented him and hurt him and scared him until he had no choice but to run? Kurt wanted to run away - but he also wanted to go down there and ask Blaine why.

He did neither.

It was as if he was glued to the scene. The saddest part was, he wasn't just hurt, he was jealous. They looked happy and at ease and when Karofsky turned the page of Blaines magazine and pointed to something Kurt couldn't see, that familiarity stung. He had known Blaine for months, had sung with him, flirted with him, danced with him but there was still something missing, something that Blaine gave to Karofsky but not to Kurt.

His vision blurred with tears that he refused to let fall.

It hurt. And worse, so much worse when he saw Blaine turn to Karofsky, kneeling on the ratty sofa and planting a soft kiss on the other boys lips.

Kurt ran. A sob escaped his lips as he dashed to his car, slamming the door and driving away, not caring where, just knowing he needed to get away. His tears made driving impossible for long and Kurt was forced to park his car. He sat there, alone. Truly alone, more so than he'd ever been before. At least before he hadn't had his hopes up, hadn't really believed that he could have someone for his own, until Blaine – to have all that taken away left him feeling more lost than he'd ever felt before.

How stupid was he to think it would work out?

Of course Blaine didn't want him. He was stupid to ever think differently. He was short and fruity and weak and he sounded like a girl. Why would Blaine want a coward like him who couldn't even stand up to a stupid jock, who ran away hoping like an idiot that Prince Charming would sweep him off his feet.

How could he ever face Blaine knowing how pathetic he must have seemed?

Kurt stayed there for a long time, crying and berating himself before he took a deep breath and began the ride back home. He just wanted to see his dad. A hug from his dad always made his problems seem smaller and he really needed that.

* * *

It was a good three weeks before the subject of that night was brought up again.

It began with a question.

"Do you think Kurt is happy?"

Blaine looked up from his magazine, surprised. "Why do you ask?"

Karofsky shrugged uncomfortably. As much progress as they had made Karofsky was still hesitant to admit his feelings for Kurt. "He never looked happy, towards the end there. Is he happier at that school of yours?"

"—No. He's not. He misses his friends, he doesn't talk about it but I can see it."

"Oh. So, uh, do you think he'd ever come back. Y'know, to McKinley? Those Glee Club losers, they don't look right without the lady boy."

Blaine shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "I don't know. He wants to go back but he's scared."

"Of me." It wasn't a question so Blaine didn't give a reply. They both knew the answer anyways. Yes. Kurt was terrified of Karofsky and he wouldn't go back unless something was done. That got Blaine thinking. "I kind of fucked up."

"Yeah."

"You didn't have to agree with me."

"Sorry. Anyways, if you're so broken up about it why don't you just apologize? I think Kurt – well, I don't know if he would accept your apology but it would be a start. And this, what we're doing, you've been getting better about talking and being open about yourself. I think what we have here is working."

Karofsky looked straight ahead at the game, not seeing it but not daring to look at Blaine. "And what do we have?"

"Friendship."

It looked like Karofsky was struggling with himself over the answer and Blaine let him, not in any hurry to make the other boy talk. "Friends – guy friends – don't usually hold hands. Or take showers together. Or cry about hairgel and uniforms to another guy."

Damn. Blaine had kind of hoped he had imagined that part. "Well ... maybe more than friends," he suggested cautiously.

"You like Kurt."

"Yeah, so do you."

They both went silent, not knowing how to continue with that strange line of conversation. It was true. Blaine had feelings for Kurt, hell, he really liked Kurt but he didn't think the other boy was ready for that. He was so unhappy and reserved, even when they were having fun there was a shadow hanging over him and Blaine didn't want to make things worse even if Kurt wouldn't see it that way. And he, in turn, was never fully able to let his hair down with Kurt (literally and figuratively) always mindful of how fragile he was and that Kurt had unofficially appointed him as his guardian angel. He was afraid of screwing everything up and Kurt really just needed a friend, not a boyfriend, so Blaine put his own feelings aside.

And that was that until – suddenly – Karofsky.

How that had happened he wasn't even sure but when he woke up with Karofskys warm hand around his own and the other boys face in his hair it was like a light had gone off in his head. Karofsky, completely unsuspectingly, had torn down his walls and bulldozed himself a place in Blaines heart. He wasn't sure if it had happened during the shower when he had scrubbed off Blains hairgel (something that he wasn't sure Karofsky realized how significant it was for Blaine) or when he woke up that morning and realized that Daves arms around him felt ... right.

That wasn't supposed to happen. He wanted Kurt and now he wanted Karofsky and he didn't want to have to choose because he knew they both liked him back even if neither one had admitted it out loud before and if he choose between them one of them would be hurt. The thought of hurting either one of them, both so fragile and uncertain in their own ways, made him feel sick. He didn't know what to do.

Eventually Karofsky pointed out that they had run out of beer and Blaine had an excuse to get some fresh air.

The beer made him stagger slightly as he made his way to the car and got out a pack of beer and the latest edition of GQ, something he had been meaning to look through but hadn't had the time.

When he got back they both cracked open a bottle, clinked them together and turned their attentions respectively to the game and the magazine.

"What do you think of this scarf?" Karofsky briefly looked over and shrugged. "I was thinking about getting one like it but I can't decide on a colour. I like blue but that's not in this season." He turned the page.

Karofsky reached over and turned the page back and pointed at a dark maroon bag. "This colour. You look good in red."

Blaine froze. "It's called maroon." He said without thinking.

"Whatever. Hey, what are you doing?"

Blaine didn't know what he was doing. He wasn't thinking for once, just acting. He knelt on the sofa and leaned his body over until his lips met the other boys. Blaine tensed up, hoping that he hadn't just ruined everything but, to his surprise, Karofsky didn't freak out or throw him off, he just put a hand on Blaines waist and gently pushed him off. Karofsky was blushing furiously, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"Sorry."

That pretty much put an end to the night and Blaine was seriously regretting his actions until, just as he was leaving, Karofsky put a clumsy hand on his shoulder, turned him around and gave him a rough peck on the cheek before slamming the door closed.

Blaine grinned. The guy was no Casanova but despite his lack of grace and charm the kissed cheek tingled pleasantly. Maybe there was some small hope for them after all. There was just one missing piece to the puzzle.

* * *

Kurt was conspicuously absent the next day. It wasn't that he wasn't at school but every time Blaine tried to get him alone Kurt would disappear. It was almost like he was avoiding Blaine.

He really needed to talk to him alone. He wasn't sure if he could possibly convince Kurt that what he had planned was a good idea but he had to try. The only way both his boys could be happy is if they resolved their issues together and Blaine was nothing if not a happiness manipulator.

It took until nearly the end of the day before Blaine was able to corner Kurt in the library and when he did he was surprised to find Kurt looking like he wanted nothing more than to run away ... or possibly kill him, Blaine was really getting mixed signals from the looks Kurt was sending him.

"Hi!"

"Hey."

_Ok, awkward._ "You're a hard guy to track down."

"I wasn't feeling well."

Ok, something was definitely wrong. Kurt couldn't lie to save his life and every emotion was painted on his face clear as day. Something was wrong, very wrong; Kurt looked one bad moment away from bursting into tears.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, like I said I haven't been feeling well."

Blaine didn't believe him but wasn't going to press the issue if Kurt wasn't willing to talk. "So, I was thinking. I'm kind of getting together with someone this Sunday—" There was a loud snap as Kurts pencil broke. Blaine looked one at Kurts tightly clenched hand and his eyebrows shot to the roof. "You've been spying on me, haven't you?"

Kurt glared at Blaine then pointedly got up, turned on his heel and calmly (too calmly) walked away.

"Well shit."

* * *

Dave was in the middle of lunch when his phone started vibrating. Of all the people who would text him at school the last person he ever thought he'd get one from was Blaine but sure enough there was a message, _'CALL ME!'_ , from him.

Dave made his excuses and left the guys at the table to go to the bathroom where he called the number on his phone back.

"Karofsky! Thank god. We have problems."

"How did you get my number?"

"... Uh, well I - nevermind that now. We need to do some damage control."

Dave rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on; between Blaine and math he could definitely see Advil in his future. This guy was worse than a girl with all his drama. "What are you talking about?"

"Kurt knows!"

"Well shit. That's bad, right?"

"Of course it's bad! My god, man, where have you been the last couple of months?"

"Killing my brain with booze." _Good times._

"Never mind that. Anyways, this ruins everything. We need a new plan of action."

"We had an old plan of action? Look, man, you're confusing me. What are you talking about?"

"Well, I was going to invite Kurt to Sunday Beer Night."

If Blaine had been in the room Dave might have seriously considered punching his face. What an idiot. Even he could see the only way that could end was in tears or death ... or both. "Well that was stupid."

"I know, I know. I was going to bring it up casually but he was spying on me and I think he must have seen us."

"Sounds like him," Dave said, "he always was kind of a creeper."

"Oh like you're one to talk. Anyways, new battle strategy. We take the bull by the horns and attack headfirst."

"Are you trying to win the guy over or take his land? This is Hummel we're talking about. Give him flowers or some gay shit like that."

There was a pause on the other end. "So ... why didn't _you_ try flowers?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait! Maybe you should confront him."

"You give really bad advice, man. I'm not stupid enough to try that."

"Damn it. Ok, I'll try flowers."

"Yeah, whatever. I've got to go, lunch is almost over. Call me after school and let me know how that goes."

They both hung up.

* * *

The flowers were, admittedly, stunning. Kurt didn't know how much money a bouquet like that cost but he was willing to bet it wasn't cheap. Blaine was sparing no expense trying to buy back his trust, it seemed.

As much as he hated to do it he couldn't sacrifice his dignity for flowers, not matter how awesome those flowers might be. Into the garbage they went.

Except for one of those long stemmed roses. He kept that but he'd be damned if he would let Blaine know. It would take more than flowers to make everything better again.

* * *

"He threw them in the garbage!"

"Sucks, man."

"I know. What should I try next? Chocolates? Tickets to Wicked?"

Dave sighed and shook his head, though Blaine couldn't see. "If he threw out the flowers he'll throw out the chocolate and he's probably been to see that damn play about a million times. I'd hear him talking about it a lot in the halls."

"You seem to know a lot about Kurt."

"Yeah, that's what happens."

"I think it needs to be you." Blaine said, changing subjects. "You need to make things right with him."

"What! Why me?

"Do I even need to answer that? You're the one he has a problem with, he's only going to keep ignoring me – he won't ignore you if you start to apologize."

"I don't know how." Dave admitted.

"Baby steps. I'll give you his phone number and just text him."

"That sounds like a bad idea."

"Trust me! It's a foolproof plan."

* * *

_"YOU GAVE KAROFSKY MY NUMBER!"_

Blaine winced as Kurt shriek seemed to echo through the building, tolling his funeral bells and ringing in the eternal damnation of his soul. "He just wanted to apologize." He said weakly.

"I. Don't. Care." Kurt practically snarled at him. "He can go rot in a hole. I can't believe you would do this to me. You know how much he hurt me. I left to get away from him and you go and give him my number!"

"He's not as bad as you think."

"Says the guy who was swapping spit with him. I'm sorry if I won't forget everything he did just because you get to take it up the ass every Sunday."

Blaine's eyes went wide at that and Kurt, for a moment, regretted opening his big mouth. He was about to apologize but decided he wouldn't give Blaine the satisfaction and left.

He didn't see Blaine sit down heavily and press his lips together tightly to keep them from trembling.

* * *

Dave didn't know exactly what had gone on between Blaine and Kurt but that Sunday he knew it hadn't been good. Blaine looked terrible. His eyes were shadowed and heavy as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep and he was unusually quiet and subdued.

"Are you alright?"

Blaine shook his head, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"Can I take a shower? I'm tired of this damn hairgel."

"Sure." It was a strange thing to ask but Dave wasn't about to say no and when Blaine re-emerged from his shower a few minutes later, gel free and curly haired he couldn't help but smile. Blaine once again borrowed an old shirt and sweats of Daves and, though he wasn't nearly as small and slight as Kurt, the clothes were still a few sizes too big.

Almost immediately after he threw himself on the sofa and leaned against Dave who absent mindedly slung his arm around the other boys shoulder.

"Can I stay the night?"

Dave was about to say no, it was too risky, his parents might find out, any number of reasons why it was a bad idea flitted through his head but what came out of his mouth was: "Sure."

Blaine nodded and relaxed against Dave and, soon enough, between the beer and the game, was asleep.

Dave looked down at the top of the other boys fluffy head and sighed heavily, flipping open his phone, determined to make things right. For Blaine. And for Kurt.

* * *

Kurt got the second text from Dave a day or two after the first. The first time Kurt had took a no hold barred approach and told Karofsky that if he tried to contact him again he would call the police so, needless to say, when his number showed up on Kurts phone again with a new text message he was furious and more than ready to make good on his threat.

_'I'm sorry __L'_

Kurt frowned, unsure of what to do. He wasn't sure what he expected Karofsky to say. Maybe bragging about how he bagged Blaine and how much of a loser Kurt was. Whatever he was expecting it wasn't an apology.

His phone buzzed again and another text from Karofsky was there. Kurt cautiously opened it.

_'I'm sorry I kissed you.'_

And for reasons Kurt couldn't explain tears started rolling down his cheeks. How could Karofsky just apologize like that? Kurt wasn't about to just forgive him just because he sent him a stupid apology with a stupid frowny face. But still ... just to see that apology ... to know that somewhere in his bullys black heart he actually regretted what he had done to Kurt. It hurt ... but in a good way.

Kurt didn't know what made him pick dial Karofskys number, maybe it was the fact that he knew Blaine was there or maybe he just wanted to hear his tormentors voice and confirm that it was really him – either way, when Karofsky picked up with a surprised 'hey' all Kurt could do was say 'hey' back.

* * *

"Is Blaine there?" Kurt asked softly. It sounded like he might have been crying.

"Yeah."

"Can I talk to him?"

"He's sleeping." Dave said, mindlessly tweaking a stray curl and watching it bounce back into place.

"Oh." There was a slight pause. " Well, why did you text me then?"

"To say sorry."

"Why? Why would you be sorry after all this time."

Dave shifted uncomfortably. He didn't want to do this, putting himself out there for Kurt to judge and tear apart, but he knew if he was going to make things right between Blaine and Kurt he was going to have to. Kurt was kind of a chick like that. It wasn't enough to say the words, he had to tear his heart out and put it on a platter and hope that Kurt decided not to crush it beneath his designer boots.

"I was scared. I liked you but I was scared."

"So you decided to make my life a living hell."

"Yeah."

"Yeah? That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want from me, Hummel? Have you seen who I hang out with? Do you know what my parents would say? What my church would say about me?"

"You were a coward." Kurt said. "You were too scared to come out so you took it out on me."

"I hated you."

Kurt made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob and Daves stomach rolled. He didn't want Kurt to start crying on him. "Why? What did I ever do to you?"

"Nothing. I was jealous, ok. I hated that you could be who you were and people loved you for it and I couldn't. Is that what you want to hear, Hummel? I hated that you got to be all shiny and faggy and happy and I was stuck with guys who would kick my ass if they knew what I was."

"That's not excuse."

"I know. But I didn't know what else to do. What was I supposed to do? Quit the football team and join Glee Club?"

"We wouldn't have judged you."

"Don't lie, Hummel. You know that everyone in Glee hates me."

Kurt had no answer for that so he changed the subject. "Why did you kiss me?"

"You know why."

"I want to hear you say it."

"God, Hummel, you're such a girl. Fine! I like you. Is that what you want to hear? That I couldn't stop thinking about you and it was driving me fucking crazy? That I know you're out of my league and would have laughed in my face if I had told you?"

No, that wasn't what Kurt wanted to hear but there it was. "What about Blaine?"

"What about him?"

"Aren't you guys dating?"

"What?" Dave squawked, lowering his voice when Blaine shifted slightly. "Don't be stupid. He's a drinking buddy."

And just like that Kurts anger just sort of evaporated. Blaine hadn't been lying to him or trying to string him along while getting some on the side? Kurt let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. He couldn't even find it in himself to really hate Karofsky at that very moment. He wasn't even sure he had hated him at all; he had just wanted ... resolution.

"So what now?"

"Damned if I know. Wanna come over and have a beer?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

* * *

As it turned out Kurt didn't come over to have a beer that week, or the week after that or the week after that but, eventually, he caved in and came to Sunday Beer Night. He's been coming every week since and the duo has grown into a trio.

Dave Karofskys parents caught Blaine sleeping over and were none too pleased but, strangely, didn't question his presence. Dave eventually told them the truth and while they weren't at all happy it went smoother than Dave had ever expected. He never did officially come out at school but everyone kind of knew when Kurt came back to McKinley and, at fist, was tentatively civil with Dave and then eventually, the two becoming practically attached at the hip. Dave secretly thought Kurt just liked being able to sneer at the guys on the football team, knowing they wouldn't dare attack him with Dave as his bodyguard. The football team didn't say anything either, it was an unspoken rule that Karofsky wasn't 'actually gay' but Dave did notice they seemed to cover up a lot more when he was around.

It didn't bother him as much as he thought it would.

As for Blaine. He quit the hairgel habit and his hair has never looked better. His transfer to McKinley wasn't really noticed by anyone but Kurt, Dave, Glee Club and, surprisingly, the football team which he later joined.

It's now three months down the road and Sunday Beer Night has become a tradition.

"I hate football."

"Suck it up, Hummel, we're watching football."

"But Sex and the City is on!"

"I like Sex and the City," Blaine chimed in.

"My TV, my rules."

"I hate you so much."

"Isn't this lovely?" Both boys glared at Blaine. "I say this called for a toast!"

Karofsky raised an eyebrow while Kurt raised an eyebrow at the raised eyebrow. The concentration of Disapproval in the room was making Blaine a little nervous. "What do you want to toast to?"

"To this. To us. To the Village Voice." He grinned. "To any passing fad."

"I see where this is going." Kurt said.

"Exactly! To being an Us for once."

Kurt raised his beer and belted out, "Instead of a Them!"

Karofsky sighed and half-heartedly raised his beer. "La vie boheme."

Kurt and Blaine choked on their beer.

Karofsky smirked. He couldn't hang around those two for that long without learning _something _about Broadway showtunes.

A/N: In case you're wondering, yeah, they all hook up eventually, but a) I was too lazy to write that and b) a sex scene would have been a tad out of place even if it would have been hot. So let your imaginations run wild with a Kurblainsky threesome.


	2. Chapter 2

Who Needs Therapy When You Have Beer

2.5

Life was weird. Really, really weird Dave decided as he sat on the sofa, sipping some sort of fruity wine and stubbornly refusing to notice or acknowledge the two dudes making out just feet away from him. The fruity wine was strange enough but he'd been forced to drink it when Kurt accidentally dropped the beer (how every single bottle had been shattered into tiny microscopic pieces and why Kurt's boots looked suspiciously damp after the fact was never questioned) and just so happened to have a bottle of peach wine on hand. Between the wine and the making out that was about as much gay as he could take in one night.

So he did his best not to notice the two figures moving out of the corner of his eye, and the tiny moans Kurt let out and the moist sound of their lips coming apart and Blaines needlessly graphic commentary that Dave was beginning to suspect wasn't just 'heat of the moment' talk but might have been directed at him. Well Blaine could just go straight to hell because Dave Karofsky could not begin to care less about how Blaine was going to 'fuck him so hard his grandchildren would walk funny'. Dave was also beginning to suspect that Blaine, in addition to having the filthiest mouth he had ever heard, didn't know the difference between hot and creepy.

Well, Blaine could try all he wanted to get Dave to switch teams but he was firmly placed on Team Not-As-Straight-As-I-Would-Like-But-Still-Not-Gay and damn it, it was going it stay that way.

All was well until a sharp pain in his leg caused Dave to shout and snap his head to glare at the boy who had kicked him. Fucking Blaine had the balls to wiggle his eyebrows and mouth 'fuck yeah' before thrusting sharply upwards. Kurt moaned while Blaine made an 'imma tap that' gesture and Dave's jaw dropped.

He didn't think he could have looked away if the house was burning down around him and Satan himself was dancing the jig on the TV. Kurt was ... god, he was beautiful, the way his arms were wrapped around Blaines neck, the arch of his back, the way his cheeks turned red like a china doll. Even tousled and sweaty and breathless he was the most perfect thing Dave had ever seen. His body burned, but it wasn't simply the tightness in his pants that hurt, it was how painfully far away Kurt was the made his gut clench and his eyes burn and his fists clench.

Dave broke his gaze, Kurt oblivious to what had just taken place, and turned his attention back to the TV.

He didn't notice Blaines pained expression or see the way his knuckles whitened around the fitful of Kurts shirt. Had he seen he might not have even realized that those knuckles weren't white with passion but with pain.

And as for Kurt, well, he was happy as a clam. After all, he was making out with Blaine, probably the most perfect and best guy in the world. What reason would he have to be sad?

* * *

Next Sunday everything appeared to be back to normal, well, as normal as anything ever got with _those two_. Kurt was painting his nails, something which Dave hated, the fumes made his nose itch and his eyes water and, if he was to be perfectly honest, the deep metallic red didn't really suit Kurt. He was almost tempted to point that out but decided that trying to give Kurt colour coordination advice was on par with trying to shave a cat – bad idea. Blaine on the other hand was acting strangely. It started off innocently enough, Blaine sitting too close and thoughtfully handing him a beer every time he ran out but then it started getting weird. It wasn't that he had a problem with it exactly but ever since Blaine had kissed him all those months ago he had never initiated anything since and, Dave had figured, since Kurt was there Blaine has lost all interest in him.

It kind of stung but he couldn't really blame the guy. Who would go for him when they had someone like Kurt?

That all changed when Blaine, seemingly drunker than usual, curled up against Dave rather than going to Kurt. For the first time in months Dave was actually a little nervous, he could see Kurt watching out of the corner of his eye and didn't want to make it look like he was moving in on his boyfriend or anything but, at the same time, Blaine was pleasantly warm and it had been a long time since he had been this close to him. It almost surprised Dave how much he missed it.

So screw it, he thought, and put his arm around the other boy shoulders. Blaine wasn't a big guy but his personality always made him seem larger than life and it always surprised Dave how strangely fragile the other boy seemed when he curled up and let himself be held. When it was him and Kurt Blaine was undeniably the 'man' in that relationship. It confused Dave how the other boy could be so strong one minute and so vulnerable the next. He wasn't sure what to think.

Eventually Blaine slid down and rested his head on Daves lap, one hand innocently laying on his thigh ... unfortunately when Blaine did that Daves reaction was anything but innocent and he almost flinched at how quickly the blood rushed to his groin.

It didn't help that Kurt was glaring at him out of the corner of his eye while his dick was doing its best to poke the guys' boyfriend in the head. Fuck.

"Uh, Blaine," Dave said, shaking his shoulder lightly. He needed to get the boy off him before anyone noticed. "Blaine?"

The boy shifted slightly and murmured, borrowing deeper into Daves lap and, consequently his painfully obvious erection. Oh god, he was so hard it hurt and he couldn't do a damn thing about it while Hummel was there. Ladyboy would absolutely lose his shit if he caught Dave getting off on his boyfriend. Thankfully luck was on his side that night and Kurt left to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately lady luck was also feeling like a double crossing bitch and as the moment Kurt left Blaine opened his eyes, turned his head and grinned straight up at Dave like some sort of sick, twisted Cheshire Cat.

"Kiss me."

"Wha-"

"I said kiss me! Quick, he'll be back soon."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to help you, now do it!" Blaine squirmed his body up, across Daves aching erection, and, in a move so diabolical Dave could almost couldn't believe this was the same boy who he had actually be thinking of as innocent a moment before, grabbed Daves hand and placed it between his legs and yanked Daves head down by his hair and smashing their lips together.

And, instead of being mad, Dave had a moment of clarity where the realization that he was cupping another dudes junk and that he found it fucking awesome was probably really gay of him. And he was ok with that.

More than ok.

Blaine whimpered into his mouth and arched his back as Dave squeezed him lightly through his jeans, cautious and inexperienced but more than enthusiastic, and felt a thrill when the other boy began hardening under his hand. It was even more of a shock when Blaine opened his mouth and let Dave in, wrapping his arms around the bigger boys neck, submitting completely as his mouth was devoured by a boy who had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

Unfortunately, for Dave his moment was ruined with a startled gasp.

Dave looked up, horrified, and with a frantic 'Kurt!' pushed Blaine off of him who gave an undignified yelp as he tumbled to the floor.

"What the hell were you doing to Blaine?" He cried, rushing to his boyfriend, pushing Dave away with a strength his small frame shouldn't have had and kneeling down at Blaines side. "Blaine, oh god, are you ok? Did he hurt you?"

This might be a really good time to mention that Blaines plans rarely ever work. This plan in particular was doomed to failure in that the intent had been to make Kurt all hot and bothered by the hot boy kissing but instead came off looking rather like Dave was taking advantage of his drunken boyfriend. Silly Blaine.

"I-I didn't – Kurt, I swear I never – I wouldn't – you don't understand—" Dave pleaded, grabbing the smaller boys arm.

"Get off me!" Kurt screamed, kicking Daves knee and yelping when Dave howled, clutching his knee, and fell over onto Kurt who fell over into Blaine who was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened when he was suddenly dog piled.

Nobody moved, either too in pain or too shocked to do anything.

Daves knee throbbed painfully, Kurt was trying to get the air back into his lungs that Daves elbow had forced out and Blaine, well, he deserved whatever he got.

"I think," gasped Blaine after a moment, "there has been a serious breakdown of communication."

"I'm going to kill you, Blaine." Dave said, punching the other boys exposed flank with everything he had and getting great satisfaction Blaines pained shout.

"Don't you touch him you Neanderthal!" Kurt yelled, balling up his fist and left hooking Daves jaw so hard his teeth clicked.

At that point a more sane, rational group of people might have stopped, realized the error of their ways and talked through their problems like rational human beings before coming to the mutual conclusion that all this had been a huge misunderstanding and laughed at their stupidity while smoking cigars and calling each other 'old chap'. Unfortunately where Dave Karofsky, Kurt Hummel and Blaine (whose last name remains shrouded in mystery) were concerned rational thought was a distant memory as they all tried to pummel each other into the ground for no apparent reason than it seemed like a good idea at the time.

And by 'each other', well, that means just Dave and Kurt, Blaine managed to squirm out of the fight before it turned really ugly and sat there watching the two go at it. He might have stopped them but he knew that sometimes the only way to build new bridges was to burn shit to the ground and start all over again. So he watched the two duke it out, Dave on the defensive and Kurt not pulling a single punch as he tried his best to beat the other boys head through the ground. At some point Dave completely stopped fighting and just shielded himself with his arms, letting Kurt rain down his blows and rage until he was completely worn, straddling Dave and panting with his fist raised, ready to strike.

Kurt would probably never know it but he was never more attractive as he was then he was at that moment. In that moment Kurt was the man and it felt good.

Too bad that was also the moment he realized he was sitting on Daves lap and Dave was very, very hard. His eyes widened.

Dave looked up at him, breathing hard, bloody faced and with his left eye already beginning to swell, waiting on Kurt to either punch him or run. Kurt did neither. Instead he stood up and held out his hand to Dave who took the offered hand.

It was almost comical how their hands contrasted, one brown and callused and large, the other pale and smooth and small. Dave liked how Kurts hand looked in his own.

Kurt helped the larger boy up and when they were both up they didn't let go, though Dave guessed that Kurt would had been right to run away screaming and never look back, but instead Kurt led Dave to the bathroom and pushed him down to sit on the side of the tub before wetting a cloth and handing it to him.

The cool cloth felt good on his split lip.

Kurt sat down next to him.

Neither boy spoke for a while, simply content to let the silence continue.

Eventually Dave lowered the cloth and turned to Kurt who was looking pointedly at the floor tiles.

"Can I kiss you?"

Kurt looked up and something not unlike a smile twitched on his lips. "Why not? Wouldn't be the first time."

Dave snorted and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to Kurts. It wasn't as dramatic as Dave had though it would be, his lip hurt and the angle was weird and the tiles were cold on his feet but, in that moment, you couldn't have found a happier person.

"Next time leave the smooth talking to Blaine."

Kurt grinned and punched Daves arm.

And like everything else, it just sort of snowballed from there.

* * *

"The Destroyer? That's actually what you named it?"

"I think mines bigger."

"Shut the fuck up, Blaine."

"Will you both shut up, I'm trying to get laid here and all I hear is 'blah blah blah'. Fucking Destroyer. I thought The Fury was lame but, nope, this is worse."

"Hummel, allow me to demonstrate why I named him The Destroyer."

Kurt squeaked as Dave grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him across the floor, climbing atop the smaller boy and pinning his arms above his head. Kurt bared his teeth in a smile and thrust upwards, daring Dave to make good on his threat.

Blaine, not one to be left out, crawled over to Kurts head and kissed his forehead before speaking softly into his ear, "Are you sure?"

Kurt shivered and nodded and that was all Blaine needed. Dave backed away as Blaine took over, removing Kurts clothes piece by piece while Dave crawled up and took Kurts head in both hands, cradling the thin face and looking into those trusting eyes and knowing he would do anything this boy asked of him.

Their lips met. Kurts mouth opened, letting Dave in and as their tongues met Kurt gave a cry and clung to Dave, nails biting into his shoulders as Blaine took the boy into his mouth.

Kurts legs were slowly spread, he couldn't tell by who though, maybe both, and a small pressure at his entrance made his hips unconsciously jerk away at the alien sensation. The finger was persistent though and slowly found its way inside, Kurt couldn't see what was happening but he could feel the digit inching deeper and deeper, it was uncomfortable and his feet curled and dug into the floor and his hips raised off the ground until a firm hand pushed them down.

Daves mouth left his own and he head the other boy ask, "Are you ok?"

A second finger entered him. It burned.

Kurt nodded and bit his lip.

Dave frown, pressing his cheek to Kurts and whispering for his ears alone. "Don't lie. We won't hurt you. I wouldn't hurt you. You have to trust us."

Kurt nodded. "It burns. I just – it's weird, that's all."

Dave nodded and moved back, lifting Kurt so his back was cradled to Daves clothed chest and stroking the boys smooth belly, trying to relax him as Blaine inserted another finger and pressed deeper until Kurt threw his head back and whimpered. Dave kissed his head, smoothing the hair from his forehead. "Kurt, open your eyes."

Kurt head shook violently, eyes clenched shut.

"Trust me, open them." Slowly an eye cracked open. "Look at what Blaine is doing. It's just him. Just some fingers, that's all."

Kurts eyes followed Blaines hand between his legs, watching as the slicked fingers disappeared inside of him rhythmically the motion getting smoother as he relaxed and his body adjusted. It still burned slightly but the burn was turning into a dull ache that he could feel with every beat of his heart. Blaine looked up through his curls and smiled reassuringly as his fingers went deeper and hit a spot inside him that made his belly clench and his hips buck. Kurt moaned, pressing his head back into Daves firm chest as a fourth finger was added and began stretching him wider.

It was painful but not terribly so and whenever Blaines fingers brushed that place inside of him his body felt like it was on fire. He was so hot; Dave was like a furnace behind him and the arms around him, reassuring in their strength, anchored him.

Just as Kurt was beginning to get used to the feeling of the fingers inside of him the two boys switched places and it was Blaine whose reassuring voice whispered in his ear: "It'll be fine, I've got you."

Kurt nodded as Dave removed his shirt. He almost laughed. The chubby guy was solid, chest broad and sturdy tapering down to a firm belly. He didn't have washboard abs but it was a far cry from what Kurt had assumed he looked like under the baggy letterman jacket. He didn't feel much like laughing though when Daves pants fell and The Destroyer (suddenly a lot less funny now) sprang free. Perhaps it was just the moment but Kurt was sure that he must have been mistaken, good joke, where's your real dick hiding at, but no.

Dave saw Kurts fear, as did Blaine who calmly took matters in hand.

"Stop standing Dave." He obeyed, kneeling between Kurts spread thighs and he could tell Kurt was doing his best to keep them parted and not listen to every instinct in his body that was telling him to protect himself. "Deep breath now, Kurt. Ok? It's going to be fine, I promise. Can you lift your legs for me?"

Kurt nodded jerkily and lifted his legs. Blaines hands grabbed them by the knees and lifted them up and wider.

"Go slow, Dave."

He nodded and moved between the pale thighs, lining himself up and slowly pushing inside.

Kurt gasped and Blaine squeezed him reassuringly, both watching in a mix of fascination and worry as Dave filled him, more and more until Kurt thought he couldn't do it, he couldn't take him in any further but just when he though he couldn't Daves hips were pressed against his bottom and neither boy moved. Blaine let go of Kurts legs and he wrapped them around Dave, holding him still.

Kurt was lowered to the floor, Blaine releasing his hold on the other boy. Kurts angle allowed his to see the other boy and realized Blaine was hard, achingly so. Selfless Blaine who would deny himself to see others happy and never once complain. Well, that just wasn't right. Kurt leaned his head back and reached his hand to grab Blaines hips and bring him closer.

"Kurt." Blaine said, surprised.

"Let me, Blaine, please. Let me do something for you."

He opened his mouth and swallowed Blaine. He wasn't as big as Dave but Kurt was inexperienced and worked to find a rhythm as Dave began slowly moving inside of him, drawing out slowly, painfully slow and then back in to the hilt until Kurts body relaxed and he began moving faster.

The smaller boy cried out around Blaine as he hit that spot over and over.

After a few awkward moments everything clicked into place and Kurt was able to take Blaine fully into his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose as Blaine gasped, eyes locking with Daves as he thrust into Kurt, making him moan around Blaine and sending a shock of pleasure through Blaines belly over and over until he couldn't take it anymore.

He was about to warn Kurt but another moan and a startled gasp and he came, Kurt's throat working over his pulsing member until he pulled out. The other boy gasped for breath coughing to clear his throat and Blaine lay, trembling and sweating and drawing in shuddering breaths as his hand groped around and found Kurt. He took the boy in his hand and began stoking him and Dave sped up to a frantic pace. Kurt screamed as he came, a high pitched sound as his release covered Blaines hand.

Kurt clenched around Dave and with a cry he buried himself inside and Kurt could feel a wet warmth on the inside.

For a moment nothing but breathing could be heard. Blaines slowly calming breathing as he curled around Kurt as the other boy drew in short, shaky gasps of air. Dave, leaning over Kurt, limbs weak and heavy but not wanting to crush the boy panted heavily as his slowly stopped shaking.

Slowly Dave slipped out and Kurts legs closed, feeling strange and empty inside but content as his two boys lay down beside him.

Kurt could feel himself, relaxed and exhausted, starting to drift off when Dave raised a fist and met Blaines fist in the air above Kurt in a tired fistbump.

"You're the man."

"No, you're the man."

Kurt closed his eyes and felt his mouth twitch into a smile. They may have been immature dumbasses but they were his immature dumbasses.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

Meet the parents.

Burt prided himself on being a tolerant father. No, more than that, he was a loving, supportive father who only wanted what was best for his son. He had dreaded the day when Kurt brought home a boyfriend. The idea of Kurt being gay always seemed kind of abstract; he knew what it implied but the reality of it was always a far off, distant thing. The word 'boyfriend' was always like a bad omen of things to come but he promised himself when the day came he would be supportive and understanding.

How come his plans never worked out the way he wanted?

"Absolutely not! Kurt, you're grounded. Forever. You two. If either of you come near my son again you'll be hearing from my shotgun ... especially you Karofsky."

"But dad—"

"No 'but dad'. I could have handled one, just one, a nice boy like Blaine-"

"But I am Blaine." Blaine pointed out.

"-But two. That's two too many."

"Dad, that doesn't even make sense. And sit down, you're not well and you're not allowed to be under stress."

"Under stress," Burt bellowed. "How can I _not _be under stress when my son comes how with, not one, but _two_ boyfriends. And one who threatened to kill you. Did you forget about that, Kurt, because I didn't? In fact, I'm pretty sure my honeymoon went to pay for you getting away from him and now you're DATING him. I just don't understand you, Kurt."

"Well, it's ok now, we fought and I punched him a few times and we're good now."

Burt simply started at Kurt until Kurt gulped heavily. "You fought? You fought _him_ ... and won?"

"Well ... he may have let me win, I think."

"You're never leaving the house again."

"But daaaaad."

"Mr. Hummel," said Dave Karofsky. "You're absolutely right."

"Dave!"

"Damn it, Dave, stop trying to make me look bad."

"See, Kurt, that's the way to behave. I like your attitude Karofsky, I don't know about that Blaine kid though."

"But Blaine's the good one."

"There is no 'good' boyfriend. When will you learn that any boyfriend is a bad boyfriend?"

"I hate you!" Kurt yelled and stormed away, the distant sound of a door slamming seemed to echo throughout the house.

After a moment Dave spoke again. "You handled that very well, sir. It must be hard."

Burt nodded in approval at the maturity of the boy; at least he understood what a trial this was. The job of a father was never easy and his respect for the boy grew, somewhat.

"Will you stop doing that," Blaine snapped.

Now that one. That Blaine kid was trouble. He was too rebellious and entirely too good looking for Burts tastes. He could easily see Kurt being led astray into a life of drugs and debauchery by that charming smile. He would have to keep an eye on Blaine.

Burt raised an eyebrow and both boys were struck with Disapproval Senior. They had always though Kurt to be the master of the Eyebrow but no, suddenly it was clear, Kurt was merely the Apprentice, his father was the true Master. "So, boys, what _exactly_ are your intentions with my son?"

* * *

Paul Karofsky couldn't take it. Here he was, sitting at his own table, eating toast and just trying to live his life in a calm and rational way. But how could any man be calm when faced with ... THIS?

Dave and his two boyfriends. TWO. BOYFRIENDS. The idea was enough to drive any man to murder. The small fruity one wasn't so bad; at least if his son had to be gay and had to have a boyfriend then at least he could rest assured that Dave wasn't the catcher, so to speak. That was his idea of what a gay guy should look like and, for all his reserve, he could tolerate the Hummel boy. But that Blaine kid, he was trouble. Far too not-gay looking. And his smile, he didn't trust that smile or those big doe eyes or that fluffy head. Why the hell did the boy look like a sheep?

Whatever the reason, Paul Karofsky was going to have to keep his eye on that one. He didn't trust the boy not to be the pitcher, so to speak, and he would be damned if he would stand for that in his house.

* * *

"Hey Blaine, when are we going to meet your parents?"

"More like when are you going to tell us your last name."

Blaine shrugged. "You guys never asked."

"Yes we have, Blaine." Kurt said. "Several times."

Blaine frown. "Well, I really don't like to talk about it but my parents died in a car crash when I was just a boy. Lily and James Potter. Tragic really, I can't remember them; all I have is this scar from the accident."

"The one that looks like a lightning bolt?"

"Yeah. That reminds me. Did I ever tell you both about the time all these owls started showing up at my house?"

THE END

A/N: As you can probably tell the epilogue was pure crack. ;)


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